


Dragons

by SamuraiCorgis



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 15:03:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15888444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamuraiCorgis/pseuds/SamuraiCorgis
Summary: a mourning dragon meets some unlikely companyheavily influenced and inspired by the overwatch cinimatic, "Dragons"quotations used





	Dragons

The light of the fire illuminated Hanzo's hands as he finished maintaining his bow, ignoring the scuffs and scratches going up his arms. It had been a petty scuffle, and he felt rather foolish now for allowing himself to even get involved in the altercation. He won, of course, but it was none of his business and he shouldn't have even gotten involved. There's just some things about siblings fighting that struck a nerve with him these days.  
He was so focused on his task he didn't notice the two figures approaching him.

"Excuse me," one said, promoting Hanzo to jump and immediately pull back his bow.  
The speaker was an omnic, dressed in monk's wear. A Shambali, maybe? No, that wouldn't be possible, right? That couldn't possibly be, a Shambali monk wouldn't be this far from home.  
The monk didn't flinch, but instead held up his hands and gave a soft hum.

"Ah, I apologize, I did not mean to startle you. I was just curious if you would not mind sharing your fire with my friend and I? We have been traveling for some time now, and are very tired.

"Ah..." Hanzo frowned and lowered his bow again. Perhaps they were Shambali after all. That still begged the question as to why they were here, in Japan of all places.  
Hanzo studied them for a moment, then sighed and looked away, "very well."

"Many thanks," the monk hummed, waiting for his companion to sit before settling on the ground beside him.

The second stranger didn't quite look like an omnic at first glance. Hanzo was almost sure he wasn't. He wore an outfit that reminded the archer of a traditional Japanese farmer, his wide brimmed straw hat covering his eyes, and a safety mask shielding his nose and mouth. He had a blade strapped behind his back at his waist, and a scarf around his neck. Clearly, this man had something to hide.  
His hands, which he idly held by the fire for warmth, looked as if they were prosthetic. They could also just be gloves, or even armor.  
Hanzo considered asking, then decided it was no business of his. The monk had bowed his head and appeared to be meditating.

The three of them sat in silence for sometime, until finally the stranger spoke:  
"Archery, huh? I was never much good at the sport."

His voice was strange, but familiar in a way Hanzo couldn't place. He was definitely Japanese, which wasn't so out of place here in Japan, but then why would he be traveling with an omnic from Nepal?  
His voice sounded rough and damaged, his accent not quite as thick as it probably used to be. He has not been in Japan for some time, Hanzo concluded.

"Once," the stranger continued, "when I was a boy, I accidentally shot an arrow that missed completely and lodged itself into my older brother's shoulder. I cried for days after that, apologizing over and over."

Hanzo's shoulder twitched with the memory of an old wound- a lodged arrow put there by his younger brother. He absently reached to rub it, frowning a bit at the lost memory.

"My brother took it in his stride, of course, and scolded me for being careless..." The stranger trailed off for a moment, folding his hands back into his lap.  
"He would often joke that he would always get me back. I never thought much of it, but... in the end he did."

Hanzo looked at the other man for a few moments, waiting to see if he would continue.

"At any rate, it is a respectable skill. I appreciate anyone who has the patience to deal with bows and arrows."

"I do not like blades," Hanzo said quietly, "I refuse to use them."

Silence fell over the three again, and Hanzo entertained himself by staring into the fire, his thoughts drifting to the upcoming date and the heavy meaning behind it. How he would do anything to bring back the old days. Bring back Genji, and tell him everything is okay. A foolish dream, and he knew it. Genji was gone, dead by brother's hands, and nothing he can do will ever change it. His vision grew blurry, and he subtly reached to rub the wetness away from the corners of his eyes.

"If I may ask," the stranger started carefully, making him jump, "why are you so distraught?"

Irritation flashed over Hanzo and he curled his lip a bit.  
"Do not assume things you know nothing about. What business is it of yours?"

"It is not, I suppose, I was only curious. You are in pain. I would like to help, if I may."

Before Hanzo could answer, a metal orb landed in his lap. Surprised, he dropped his shoulders and glanced up.  
The monk was sitting up again, his forever blank face turned right at Hanzo.

"I apologize," he said, "but I think perhaps you could use that. You need it."  
Hanzo huffed and picked up the orb in his lap. It was glowing a soft yellow, small intricate designs carved into it's smooth surface. The more he rolled it in his hands, the more calm he felt. The light seemed to seep from the orb and crawl up his arms, healing his wounds as it went. His eyes were wide as he watched, relaxed by the warm feeling it gave him.

After a few moments of silence, he sighed.  
"Seeking power, I killed my brother. It... It was my duty, I had to. He was disobeying our family, and I had to take action... but without him... I am lost."

"Was it really your duty?" The monk asked, "or is that what you were made to believe?"

"You dare question my family's judgement?" Hanzo growled softly.

"I do," the monk responded, "for I do not believe that their choice was the right one."

"They were very wise, they knew what was best."

"And what was best was to kill your brother?"

Hanzo paused, then growled and snatched up his bow, moving to stand up. The stranger's hand shot out to grab his shoulder.

  
"You have inflicted wounds upon yourself, but now... you _must_ heal. Please, wander the earth as we do. Find value in humility... and then you shall find peace."

Hanzo looked between the two, then snarled and pulled from the stranger's grasp.

  
"I will not be lectured of peace and humility to men who know nothing about my past!"

He began to stalk away as the stranger stood up, stretching a bit before lazily calling out a soft but firm, "Hanzo."

The archer stopped in his tracks.  
He didn't remember telling them his name.  
In fact, he's positive he didn't.  
What kind of fool did they take him for? He drew his bow once more and whipped back around to face the men.

"What is the meaning of this?" He demanded, pulling out an arrow, "Who are you?"

"Hanzo," the man said carefully, "please, listen. You are not honoring your brother, Genji, the way you think you are. Honor resides in one's actions, not incense offerings."

"You dare lecture me about honor?! You are not even worthy to say his name!" Hanzo cried, loading the arrow and pulling back the string.

Before either man could make a move, another orb hit Hanzo square in the chest. This one glowed with a rich purple color, he noticed as he watched it float next him.  
Almost immediately, he felt weak and drained, and a look of confusion settled on his face as he grew too tired to hold the bow. The monk had gotten up once more, never moving from his cross legged position. His arms were poised to strike, two more orbs floating in his metal palms.

"What is this...? _Who are you_...?" Hanzo growled, slowly backing away.

The stranger sighed and removed his hat and mask. A familiar face stared back at Hanzo, scarred and much more aged than the last time he had seen it.  
Brown eyes met brown eyes and Hanzo couldn't contain his gasp.

"Genji."

"Hanzo," Genji said softly, reaching for his brother, "please, I am not here to fight you."

Hanzo stared at Genji's hands. So they were prosthetic. His eyes flicked back up to Genji's face. His cheeks, still a little chubby with baby fat, were discolored and covered in scars. His hair was starting to gray, much like Hanzo's had, but was still styled in the all too familiar way he had always worn it in their younger days. His jaw was lined with a metal plating that met his bottom lip. Hanzo wondered if his real bottom jaw was even still there. His eyes... they were brown, but not the brown Hanzo remembered. They looked almost red.  
Despite all of this, no matter how much Hanzo tried to deny it, this was Genji. This was his brother.  
He shook his head, backing away.

"What... How...?"

"It's okay, Hanzo. I am at peace with what I am now. And I have forgiven you. I just want to help."

Hanzo stumbled to his knees, holding his head in his hands.  
"No," he said, "no, I cannot. I... I killed you, Genji! How can you just brush that off so _easily_?!"

He drug his hands down his face and held them away, trembling.  
"I can see your blood on my hands. I am unworthy of redemption."

Genji came over and knelt down, taking Hanzo's hands into his own.  
"I want to help you forgive yourself, Hanzo. Please, allow me to help you wash this blood away."

Hanzo looked down at their hands again, confusion swirling in his mind. Just the sight of Genji's hands, clearly robotic now that they were up close, overwhelmed him with guilt. How dare Genji just waltz in after 10 years and pretend everything is okay? How could he forgive so easily, after everything Hanzo had done? It didn't make any sense.  
He studied Genji a little closer. Now that they were away from the fire, Hanzo could clearly see green lights emitting from various places under Genji's shirt. How much of him was even still human? Was this even his brother, or just some cruel trick sent to throw him off of his mission? Well, he certainly would not let that happen.  
The archer clenched his jaw, pulling away from this... thing... and standing up again. A hard coldness settled into his eyes to mask his confusion. His only defense was anger, and by god he needed all the defense he could get.

"Brother?" Genji said, frowning as he stood as well.

"You may call yourself my brother," he said coldly, "but you are not the Genji I once knew."

Confusion settled into Genji's eyes, and hurt. He started to reach again, but this time the monk held him back.

"Come my student," he said, "it is time for us to take our leave. Your brother is not yet ready."

Genji looked to the monk, then sighed and hung his head.  
"Yes, Master Zenyatta, you are right. Let us go."

The monk- Zenyatta- hummed and turned back to Hanzo. There was a smile in his voice, which Hanzo felt somewhat insulted by.  
"Keep that orb," he advised, "one day you may need it again. Do not worry, you will know when that day comes."

And with that, Zenyatta turned away, starting the trek back from the way they came. He called for Genji, who hesitated a moment.  
He glanced to Hanzo and gave a short salute.

"Until we meet again, _brother_."

**Author's Note:**

> the ending is super rushed and i am so sorry, but i wanted to get it written and posted before i lost my muse for it. so, sorry for that, lmao, but let me know what you think otherwise!


End file.
